


how to fall in love with an android

by Antares (Alvaerele)



Series: over land and sea [1]
Category: Alien Series, Alien: Covenant, Prometheus (2012)
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Oneshot, Other, Party, Touch-Starved, bridal carry, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alvaerele/pseuds/Antares
Summary: a series of oneshots surrounding the loveable David 8, and the reader: an androids specialist and engineer.





	1. the movie

**Author's Note:**

> this one's sickly sweet, hope you don't mind.

You were known for your outbursts.

You weren’t loud, per se. Nor were you overly-emotional. In fact, you knew when to bite your tongue, and how to mitigate a situation properly. However, nothing set the fire within you ablaze quite like your crew mishandling the on-board synthetics.

Yes, you mean David.

As an engineer, raised by engineers, devoted specifically to the artificial intelligence sect of robotics, you had a soft spot for androids. Hell, soft spot barely scratched the surface. You were maternal, loving, and ferocious in your protective nature. And when anyone, particularly your crewmates, mistreated a synthetic, you blew up.

On this day your poor crewmate, a scraggly fella by the name of Ferguson, picked the wrong occasion to bully David. Some spat about David making a remark about Ferguson’s drinking, which, of course, was probably truthful and hilarious. But Ferguson had a short fuse, and had pinned the AI to a wall by his neck, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth as he hissed and spat and cursed all at once. That is, until you came along. It’s hard to miss the noise produced by an angry drunk attacking your favorite android. When you happened upon the scene, you wound up your arm, and released all that tension right into his jaw, and made sure to shout a few expletives his way as he staggered off. You offered an apology to David, whose response was formal and pensively thankful, and you two went your separate ways.

You spent the rest of the day cooling off, trying to lessen the grip of anger on the walls of your throat. It was a difficult task; you cared deeply for the synthetic, for he had done nothing wrong, and time and again he was subjected to cruel treatment. You would give anything to make the crew give him some proper respect.

You found yourself in your room at last, once the day drew to a close, and you plummeted into your bed, back planted firmly on the neatly-tucked duvet. With two calloused hands, you drew circles into your temples, and counted your breaths. You fell into a rhythm, regulating your breathing, and falling deep into your thoughts.

It was evening when you heard the subtle hiss of the door to your room whir with life; and in stepped your favorite on-board synthetic life: David. As he entered the room, there was an indistinguishable quizzical air about him, as shown by the slight pinch in his brows, the tautness of his lips, and how his eyes never stayed on one spot in the room for more than a brief moment. Once he had navigated his way beside you, which was a short journey of 10 feet or so, he stood, stoically, at your command.

“Pardon the intrusion, Second Engineer Y/N,” he said, eyes on yours, yet flitting away every few moments, almost out of embarrassment.

You managed a sincere smile, despite how tired you were.

“No reason to apologize. You’re always welcome in my quarters, David,” you replied, as you stood up slowly. “What do you need?”

The android relaxed slightly, a timid smile finding its way to his sculpted features.

“I would like to offer a proper thank you, for what you did for me today. I’m afraid I was too shaken before to quite register your act of kindness.” What was it about him always being so humble around you? You knew he had a sense of humor; he used it on idiots like Ferguson, who would never pick up on the subtlety of David’s jokes. He was welcome to be a little more relaxed and joking with you. More than welcome, really.

You waved a hand, dismissing his (admittedly) sweet gratitude.

“I only did what’s right. You deserve better than what that idiot, and… others put you through.” You smiled, but it was crooked, and wide. A more gaudy and real smile. David reciprocated, with an equally toothy grin. It appeared to be a learned behavior. How charming.

“Even so, it goes against my protocols to ignore kind deeds when they come my way. Here, as a token of my gratitude,” David produced a case from behind his back, slightly worn around the edges. Clearly from use. “It is something dear to me, as far as sentimentality in a synthetic can go,” at that, he laughed. It was a hollow laugh, as if more out of the cruel irony of his existence than truly out of humor. “But,” he continued, “the ship’s library keeps it stocked, and I’ve watched it so many times I practically have it memorized. I’d like you to have it.”

And at that, you took the case, getting a better look at it.

 _Lawrence of Arabia_. A classic.

You felt dumbfounded. You knew that David had a few habits uncharacteristic of an android, but that’s what you found so enchanting about him. David was as human as it gets, short of having a beating heart. He bleached his hair, he cracked jokes, and he even had a favorite movie. You truly liked that about him.

However, you could never accept this from him.

“David,” you began, smiling grimly at the case as you handed it back to him. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “I’m sure human customs may come as confusing from time to time, but I promise you, some rejections are well-intentioned.”

David keened his head to the left, hand reaching for his favorite movie.

“The gesture means more than I can really say. I mean, your favorite movie? I’m touched. Really. Truthfully. I’m _touched_.” You tried a soft smile, your hands coming to cup his gently. “But that’s the beauty of it, David. This movie is yours. It defines you. I could never take it from you.”

A look passed in his eyes; it felt uncertain, but not disheartened. You could tell you had captured his interest.

“You’re a beautiful person, David. You have a beautiful mind, and a beautiful soul. And this movie,” you lightly tapped the case cradled in his hands, “it’s you. Keep it.”

A moment of silence passed between you two, as the android processed all you had said. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand; he understood fully well the weight and truth to your words. He had simply never heard anyone speak that way of him. It threw him off-guard.

But eventually he smiled, eyes soft, and he nodded in understanding.

“I still feel I’ve shorted you some form of gratitude,” he admitted. “For the case, and for your compassion. You have… a kind heart.”

At that, you couldn’t help but grin so wide your cheeks hurt.

“The fact you said that is gratitude enough. Thank you, David.”

He nodded again, and you could almost catch a glimpse of reluctance in his eyes as he turned to leave. He paused at the door, almost anticipating more from you. What else was there to say? Still, you wanted to leave him with something to remember.

“If that idiot Ferguson, or anyone else for that matter, tries to bodyslam you again, call me. I’ll be your personal bodyguard.”

He stilled, and you could almost hear a stifled chuckle, before his head craned to face you, and his eyes smiled in childlike appreciation.

“I certainly will, Y/N.”


	2. the reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reader struggles with her self-image. david helps alleviate her concerns.
> 
> thank you to screamkween for suggesting this oneshot!

            You were toned. A stomach rounded, yet firm with muscles packed underneath a thin layer of fat. As you exhaled, you watched the subtle shifting of abdominal muscles in the mirror. Your arms were lean in the forearms, but thick in the biceps, from many sessions in the training room. Being out in space, your captain made sure her crew members were all in peak condition so as to avoid muscle and bone deterioration. Your peak condition, you found, was a slight increase of fat in areas you didn’t like them. Like your upper arms, which lightly bounced as you ran laps in the track room. Or your thighs, which you were certain were supplied with muscles abound, yet were so soft and pudgy you’d have to crush a watermelon between them for any said muscles to show.

            Discontented, you huffed grimly at your reflection.

            You pinched at your cheeks. They were soft, full. A little too full for your liking.

            Slim fingers traced along the length of your sides, settling at the subtle curve above your hips. _Love handles_.

            Why was it that Captain Vickers could have the same workout routine as you and accumulate zero fat anywhere on her body?

            And then there was your greatest fear. You unclasped your bra and watched with heaviness in your heart as your breasts fell with a bounce. A massive scar on your chest, smack-dab in the middle of your sternum, stretched the length of your clavicle to the end of your ribcage. It was a sickeningly pale color, with hints of pink in the corners of its regenerated skin. A remnant from a much-needed surgery a few years before your enlistment in this mission. A heart defect. You had it since birth, but doctors never noticed it until you were 20 years old; a murmur that led into a full-on seizure. When you were rushed to the hospital your heart stopped for 2 minutes, and an emergency surgery commenced.

            4 years, a new heart, and a massive scar later and there you were: standing crestfallen before your image.

            You struggled with your self-esteem your whole life. But this scar did nothing to help your progress in overcoming the struggle that was loving yourself. It was a massive, glaring reminder that you were rife with imperfections.

            And then, you were crying. Not loudly; merely a few indistinct sniffles coupled with the running of tears down your cheeks. Redness collected at your features, namely your nose, as you continued to break down everything you hated about your body.

            _Those loose hairs that won’t lay flat._

_The freckles on my arms and shoulders._

_The pockets of cellulite on my thighs._

It was only there, in your bathroom, that you felt safe to expend a few tears and let your insecurities out.

            That is, you felt safe until you noticed the figure behind you. Tall, skinny, and unwavering as it stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Oh, it was David.

            “I apologize, Second Engineer Y/N, I didn’t mean to intrude –”

            Quickly, you placed your bra back atop your breasts, and clicked the fastener into place behind your back. You were shaking your head the whole time, with weak laughs breaking into your speech as you hurriedly said, “Oh, no! It’s fine, I just didn’t expect any company tonight.” When your suit was back in place, you quickly wiped the tears away from your eyes, before angling your arms behind your back to zip the tight material up. Perhaps you were too flustered, or the zipper was at an awkward spot, but you couldn’t seem to pull the damn thing up.

            After watching you struggle for a moment, David approached, keeping a respectful distance behind you.

            “May I help?” he offered, with growing concern in his eyes. Damn, did he notice the tears drying on your cheeks?

            You nodded, and awaited him pensively at the sink, arms holding onto it for dear life, as you felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. Despite knowing David was an android and couldn’t react to your underdressed and overworked state, you still struggled with shaking off the humiliation that came with having someone walk in on you shirtless and crying into a bathroom mirror.

            When his knuckles brushed against your back, you shivered, and closed your eyes to avoid eye contact through the mirror. With a swift motion, he pulled the zipper up, and took a step back. Slowly, your eyes reopened, only for them to immediately lock with his as you watched his reflection. There was a certain sadness in those blue hues as his eyebrows knitted in concern.

            “It is not my business in the slightest, but I cannot help but notice you were crying when I approached your room.”

            Immediately, you let out a laugh. It startled him. You’re sure a lot of human behaviors startle him, but how else would you react? With a short sniffle, you smiled gloomily, and nodded, eyes now lowered to stare blankly at the sink beneath you.

            “What is wrong?” he tried. He was more brave with you than others. Perhaps it was because he knew you weren’t going to use him, or make cruel jokes at his expense. Or it was the fact you programmed androids and understood them better than most. The answer didn’t matter; what did was the fact he trusted you enough to be honest when he questioned you. It took you a moment to consider the words you’d use to respond.

            “I’m sorry if this sounds condescending, but I’m going to talk down to you for a second.” Briefly your eyes caught his as he nodded in understanding. Thankful, you smiled, and stood up straight. At this point you turned around to face him. “Humans are often plagued with feelings of dissatisfaction with their appearances. We feel negatively when we look at things that aren’t up to par.”

            He nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed this behavior before.”

            “Well, that’s what you just happened upon.” Your gaze traveled down, as pink blush gathered in your cheeks. “I admit I struggle with my appearance. I don’t feel… beautiful.”

            At that, you felt a finger hook under your chin, which gently brought your head back up. David’s gaze was intense, but soft. He took a moment to examine you, before releasing your face and backing up a half-step.

            “You have no reason to feel that way. You are quite beautiful.”

            Although you cracked a genuine smile at that, you couldn’t help but shake your head at the idea. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you chuckled.

            “Even so, what I say is the truth. I do not say falsehoods to improve the moods of organics. It goes against my programming.” One of his brows raised, as if to remind you that you should know that. And you should, you really should. But it’s so hard to convince yourself that you are beautiful.

            “Allow me to prove myself,” he continued, taking a step towards you. With a weak gasp, you backpedal, only to find yourself bumping into the sink. You watched him carefully, as his hand came up to finger through your hair. “‘She has the most beautiful hair. Have you noticed? I wish my hair was naturally that lovely.’”

            You stilled, confusion in your eyes.

            “Julie Farrow of medical said that in passing one day, and I happened to be in earshot to catch it.”

            “Julie said that?”

            He nodded. Gradually, his fingers traced along the side of your face. “Janek once remarked that he found your body to be so gorgeous, he wondered how he could control himself in your presence. I hope it’s not rude of me to pass that on to you.”

            You shook your head, as your cheeks grew hotter. “That surprises me…”

            His lips quirked into a soft smile, as he continued. “Even Dr. Shaw has admitted to coveting your eyes. In her words, ‘They’re that kind of striking beauty you only see in movies.’”

            All this came as a shock to you. “You heard all of this?” you asked.

            “Of course. I hear most of what’s said on this ship,” he observed. And with that, he took a step back, allowing you room to breathe.

            You couldn’t shake how hot your face felt. Even though you were flattered to hear all your crew members seemed to appreciate your looks, it warmed your heart the most to know David cared enough to disclose such details just to alleviate your doubts.

            “Thank you,” you said, admittedly lamely. When your eyes captured his in a warm gaze, you noticed he was smirking.

            “It is my pleasure.”


	3. the party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of the party arc. thank you for all the support thus far!

            The evening was hazy. A blur. Colors seemed to melt into each other, creating a hodge-podge of whimsical scents, sensations, and visible melodies. You felt light; not that you were high. Maybe a little drunk, yes, but definitely not the lightness achieved by being high. The best way you could describe it was your chest felt loose, like each breath was full. Drinking in life with magnificent inhales, exhaling with a wide grin planted on your face.

            Usually you didn’t enjoy parties. But everything has its exception.

            There was a widespread blanket of noise. It was soft and almost melodic, reminiscent of the white noise of a night club before the opening band played. The voices composing this droning symphony belonged to your cohorts. Most of the crew was there, save for Meredith. She mentioned something about needing to debrief with Weyland, whatever that meant. Janek made sure you knew that she was a buzzkill, and was merely skipping out on the fun to further shove a stick up her ass.

            His words, not yours.

            In a way, you could understand her inclination to stay away from the noise and energy of a party. You always clung to the walls when you were invited to shindigs at your university. People would approach, they would converse, some would flirt, and most would leave you be. You weren’t introverted. You just learned to savor the silence. Intimate, private gatherings were more favorable; it was only in small groups of friends that you felt like you were truly connecting with people.

            But here, with your crewmates, the people you would throw your life on the line for…

            Yes, you could enjoy a party with them.

            And you were.

            There was this new drink, you learned, that tasted sour and went down like acid, but it hit you immediately, and the buzz was so potent that you discovered you only needed half a can to last you the night. At that point, you were all laughs and giggles. Janek appreciated this lighter side to you, the side that let loose. You did too. It felt right to just talk and laugh and not feel bound by professionalism.

            After a few rounds of darts, which you kind-of-really-sucked-at, you knew you had to wind down. You needed fresh air. But where was fresh air on a ship secluded in the vacuum of space? The next best thing was the gymnasium, which was well-ventilated and cooled constantly.

            “I’ll be back,” you announced, a little too loudly.

            “You better,” laughed Charlie, as he kept Elizabeth glued to his waist with his arm. “The night is young!”

            You shook your head, feeling a bit foggy. “I don’t know how you’re always dialed up to 11, Holloway, but your girlfriend has my sympathies.” Shaw let out a sharp bark of a laugh, which cascaded into helpless giggles as her boyfriend watched with a gaping smile, clearly offended. You didn’t give him enough time to retort before you fled the scene. As you meandered the hallway away from the rec room, the music and laughter faded gradually, and you already started to feel a bit better.

            The journey seemed to last eons; an infinity collapsed into a few minutes. Man, that beer was doing something to you. You were still deciding it that “something” was good or bad.

            When you were about halfway between the rec room and the gymnasium, a sound caught your ears. It was muffled, clearly distorted behind an automatic door. It wasn’t the music, you noticed. The sound was more human, like many people talking, but more so hushed and inaudible. It wasn’t Meredith’s room…

            _“The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.”_

            That was definitely David’s voice you heard. As gracefully as a somewhat-drunk-person could muster, you leaned into the door without tripping the motion sensor, which would immediately hum with life and announce your presence to David. You didn’t want to disturb him. It was just nice thinking about the android watching a movie. _His favorite movie_. Why did that thought strike you as so cute? After a few moments of innocent eavesdropping, you pushed yourself away from the door. You could hear the pausing of any noise for a moment, then some shuffling. Eventually, after a few moments of you holding your breath hoping you didn’t bother him, the sound resumes and you relax.

            With a pleasant smile on your lips, you wobbled back to your original height, and continued on your way, humming that same line under your breath ad infinitum. Somewhat clumsily, you reached the turn needed to get to the gym, and tried to walk a straight line through the threshold, only to stumble and balance yourself with a palm planted firmly at the wall to your right. Maybe a walking buddy would’ve been a good idea. But it’s not like there’s anything to really fear. Short of passing out and choking on your own vomit, which seemed kind of unlikely. You were an adult. You could walk to the gym, sit in the air-conditioned room for a few minutes, then rejoin the party. You could handle that, no sweat.

            Except, when you regained yourself, you could only take two steps before you felt unsteady and fell over. A sharp pain wracked your head, and you could only assume it knocked into something on the way down. Breathing sharply, you rubbed at the sore spot at the back of your head, while the edges of your vision began to burn black.

            “Shit,” you huffed, blinking steadily to try to keep yourself from blacking out. “S-somebody!” you yelled. “Help–!”

            And then you felt really tired. _Fuck, don’t black out, don’t black out…_

_Too late._

 

            Reality returned in little blips. They were vague blips, and your consciousness could only grasp feebly at them, holding onto none of it. Your limbs felt heavy, but you weren’t laying down. Actually, you were moving. It was a rhythmic, bouncing movement. Swift and mechanical. Like jogging. But you weren’t jogging, you couldn’t even tell where your legs were.

_Hell, am I that drunk?_

            And then you craned your neck up. Little spider webs of pain crackled through your nerves, begging you not to move too much. But you felt arms around you, fingers curling protectively around your legs and back. Someone was carrying you. You had to see who it was. When you looked up, you saw his strong jaw tensing up, and striking blue eyes.

            It’s always David, isn’t it?

            You couldn’t help but smile.

            “This is why I like you so much,” you sighed, nuzzling into his chest. His eyes flickered down, confusion swirling in those gorgeous orbs. But he didn’t respond, he merely watched you momentarily, before returning his gaze ahead of him.

            Closing your eyes, you let yourself drift away.


	4. the touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two in one night? i must be feeling inspired! ;-) this is the second and final part to the party arc. it's a little shorter, but i hope you like it all the same.
> 
> thanks to clementinethedemon for suggesting this chapter's focus. as always, your support means the world. thank you, all. <3

            It was impossible to keep up with time in space. All the systems’ clocks were set to Solar/Lunar cycles, which meant the time you knew was relative to the time on Earth. Yet, when your eyes fluttered open, and met the clock before them, the blinking 1:32 meant absolutely nothing, because the moment after, when you rolled onto your back and gazed up into the skylight that let in a sliver of space through the window, you knew damn well it was still dark. It’s always dark in space.

            Contrary to how perfectly light you felt at the party, your body now felt like dead weight. Lead swirled through your veins, anchoring you to the bed beneath you. And there was this massive, reeling knot in the pit of your stomach. It felt like absolute hell.

            The splitting migraine was only the cherry on top.

            “You seem to have had an adverse reaction to the alcohol you consumed at the celebration.”

            That matter-of-fact voice could only belong to David. It was always a treat waking up to him. And that’s happened all of twice, now: once after the big sleep in cryo, and now. Slowly, your eyes crawled up to see that he was sitting at the edge of the bed. His bed. Why did he have a bed?

            “I always play it too fast,” you mumbled, still feeling the leftovers of that disastrous yet delightful drink in your system. “I don’t understand restraint.” It was meant to be a joke, but he didn’t laugh. He looked sternly at you. You tried a smile, but that didn’t affect him in the slightest.

            “You should be more careful, Second Engineer Y/N, because excursions like this can really–”

            “Y/N.”

            He paused, looking at you quizzically.

            “Y/N,” you repeated. “You can call me Y/N. None of that ‘Second Engineer’ business. Just… Y/N will suffice.”

            The android shifted, almost awkwardly, as he tried to ascertain exactly how to breach his current naming protocols. The minute glances at and away from you were proof enough he didn’t know how to respond. Tenderly, one of your hands came onto his. Instinctively, he pulled away, eyes wide as he watched you.

            “We’re friends,” you stated. “Friends can call each other by their first names. I mean, I call you David, don’t I? Feel free to address me casually.”

            And at that, you slowly tried to lay a hand on his again. When your skin made contact, he didn’t retract. You would go at his pace. You told him that with your eyes. _Tell me if this isn’t okay._ And when he calmed, you smiled more fondly. You curled your fingers around his palm, holding his hand, as a thumb brushed against the soft skin of his knuckles.

            For a few brief minutes, you merely watched him. Observed him. Took him in as he reacted to your touch. It dawned on you that androids weren’t exactly programmed to feel one way or another about a human touch. But androids can learn, that’s the beauty of their AI. And David learned, unfortunately, that to be touched was to be hurt.

            You saw it happen many times. Vickers would hold him by his neck. Fifield would shove. Ferguson liked to brawl. Many other crew members, if they didn’t touch him, would curse at him. The thought of it made you sick.

            “I hate the way they treat you,” you said in a whisper, gaze lowering to both your hands. “Like you’re some punching bag. It’s cruel.”

            “You have very soft hands,” he noted abruptly, and you nearly laughed. A laugh facilitated through disbelief, not humor. He never ceased to surprise you.

            “Thank you,” you finally replied.

            When you watched him, you noticed his eyes never left your hand. The expression he bore grew softer and softer as he responded to your touch, as if it soothed him. The thought that you could soothe him comforted you. At least someone on this ship could make him feel safe.

            “And thank you for taking care of me. I don't mean to overstay my welcome, I can leave now if you like–”

            David shook his head.

            “Y/N, please stay.”

            And your eyes went wide. Then they blinked. Again, and again, until they slowly closed. And you nodded, a smile breaking into your features.

            “Of course.”

            That night, while you laid comfortably in his presence, you continued to hold his hand. You wouldn’t let go until he did. And you found, as you slowly drifted into a more comfortable sleep, that he never did.


	5. the injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> somewhat of an "au", if you will, where david is injured after the silica storm. reader patches him up.
> 
> this one's considerably longer, and i tried to be as true to the lore as possible. as always, thank you for reading. your comments and kudos encourage me to keep writing.
> 
> oh! and i renamed the story. this felt a little more fitting than the original, which was somewhat of a placeholder. hope no-one is thrown off by it!

            For the most part, you were left in the dark on missions until they were finished. It wasn’t out of distrust; merely that your expertise wasn’t necessary in the midst of an excavation mission. That task was left to the geologists and anthropologists, while you would wait either on-board the shuttle or the Prometheus to help with analyzing data, or repairing any equipment damaged by the alien terrain. And in all fairness, what could really go wrong out there? Scans for extraterrestrial life always turned up blank, and the planet appeared to be all but abandoned.

            Except, you knew better.

            The first trip out there, they left behind two crew members: Fifield and Millburn. Red flags turned up in your head when they debriefed later, you wringing your hands anxiously as they recounted all the findings that surfaced from the venture. But in the back of your mind, while Shaw and Holloway described the magnitude of their discoveries, and the DNA testing they were already in the process of, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what the hell happened out there, and where the hell Fifield and Millburn were.

            “Were they injured?” you piped up, suddenly, your overthinking wracking your mind.

            “Who?” asked Charlie, with a slight edge to his tone, as if to challenge the assertion he’d let anyone be hurt on _his_ mission. But you wouldn’t be deterred by his slight attitude. Human lives mattered more than his determination to settle a personal quest for enlightenment.

            “Rafe and Sean, Charlie! You left them behind in a damned storm, trapped in a structure that we barely understand. Are they injured?”

            There was fire in your eyes, and you didn’t know where it came from. But it all felt so raw to you; these people, as much as they could frustrate you, had become like friends to you, and if by merit of the mission alone, you would take a bullet for each and every one.

            _Except maybe Ferguson_.

            Charlie, who had relaxed his posture to lean against console of the debriefing room, suddenly straightened, and inclined his head to better view you across from him. For a moment, there was a flash of fury in his expression, but Shaw placed a hand gently on the small of his back, and he softened immediately, sighing as his eyes closed and he pinched his brows.

            “Everyone sustained mild injuries – think cat-scratches, here, L/N – during the storm. As far as we know, and bear in mind we’re still able to communicate with them, the two of them are uninjured. If anything, the damn robot took the biggest pounding, going out there to save Elizabeth from the silica storm.” There was a hint of resentment as he drew out the word _robot_.

            Your eyes flashed with fear for a moment. “David is injured and no-one alerted me?”

            The dark-haired man drew up his palms, a smug look on his face. “It was barely anything. A few dents and scratches. Really, the thing can fix itself.”

            You shook your head, ire bubbling in your core. If you didn’t leave now you’d say something you regret. Without looking at Charlie, or anyone else for that matter, you spat out, “Where is he now?”

            Holloway shrugged, and with an annoyed scoff, Shaw elbowed his side, before facing you and informing you he was in the medbay. You nodded thanks, before departing to tend to your “patient”.

 

            When you arrived at medical, the doors were already open, and locked. That went against protocol, but you found no-one was there. Your brow quirked inquisitively, as you cautiously walked through the threshold. A brief glance showed it was empty, save for the android parked on an operating table in the rightmost corner of the room. David was sitting, posture perfect, while he thumbed through some repair tools, ones specifically designed for android use.

            “The door is open, David,” you remarked.

            He didn’t turn to face you, only nodding. “My mistake; feel free to close them.”

            Lips thinning, you obliged, turning to face the keypad for the door. You punched in the security code, and pressed your thumb firmly into the fingerprint sensor, and the door closed. Without wasting time, you made your way to his side, and stood contemplatively before him. The android didn’t face you for a second, still trying to find the right tool. You clicked your tongue, and he looked up at you.

            “Yes, Second Engineer Y/N?”

            “I thought we agreed to stick to first names here, David,” you replied with a crooked smile. He nodded understanding, but didn’t respond. Playfully, you scoffed, and knelt before him, taking the tools away from his hands. He didn’t object. “Where are you injured?”

            “It’s mostly surface damage; Weyland has supplied this ship with the necessary remedies for small injuries. However, a rather large grain of silica pierced my suit during the storm. It has lodged itself deep into my…”

            While he talked you were absentmindedly sorting through the tools, placing them in a neat line on the table beside where the android was seated. His voice trailed off, and you noticed the lack of resolution to his thought. “…deep into your what, David?”

            “My ribcage. Right side. I’m afraid it’s an injury I’m unable to attend to.”

            There was a look of embarrassment in his eyes. It was very subtle, hiding in the cerulean tints in those glowing orbs. You wondered why he would hesitate to say _my ribcage_. And then it dawned on you. A frown desperately pulled at the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t want to appear visibly upset around David. Instead, you managed your sincerest smile, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. The action surprised him, but only shortly, until his muscles relaxed and his eyes lowered. You almost couldn’t see it, but a quiet smile creased his cheeks.

            You hovered before him again, getting a good look at the skin on his face. Nothing serious; he could easily patch it up at his leisure. “Hands please,” you asked. When he lifted them up, you grabbed each one and eyed them carefully. Some deeper dermal damage, but again, that was something David could remedy himself.

            “All right, David, I need you to take off your suit. I’m going to grab my tools.” A smile sprung up on your lips, hoping to soothe him. “I’ll fix you up in a second. When you’re undressed, please lay down here,” and you pointed at the larger operating table just behind him, one more suitable for live subjects. His eyes followed your hand, and when he saw his destination, he nodded curtly, before standing to begin disrobing.

            Medical was a rather small facility, all things considered. It could only house about 6 patients at once, which was unfortunate, because with a mission like the one you were on, disaster could strike at any moment, and disaster was rarely mended with Band-Aids and a little R&R. The medbay could stand a gurney or two, and maybe being better staffed wouldn’t hurt. All in all, it was a shame it came so ill-supplied. Fortunately for you, however, your patient wasn’t an organic, so all you really needed were some high-precision scalpels, which _weren’t_ in low supply on the ship.

            There was a cabinet just to the right of the entrance, one that was deep and hidden in the short alcove that bridged the door and medical. In it was stashed various consumable equipment, like gauze and medical gloves, as well as smaller surgical instruments, which were kept about eye level in a six-inch deep drawer. You pulled it out and eyed through the selection, picking out two scalpels that were best-suited for working on David’s artificial skin. It was standard practice to wear gloves whenever working on a patient, but David was synthetic, and was mostly unable to harbor dangerous pathogens and illnesses. You decided against erring on the side of caution, and sealed the cabinet without donning a set of gloves. When you turned around to face David again, he had his suit halfway off, the top half folding over his hips to limply lay against his thighs. You were somewhat thankful he didn’t fully strip; it was hard to focus on his injuries when Weyland designed him to be so god-damned gorgeous. It wasn’t professional to be distracted by your patient’s body, but it wasn’t exactly your fault he was built to be such eye candy.

            The android was sitting on the larger operating table, as per your instruction, with his eyes fixated on you in anticipation. You ambulated his seat a few times, setting up your instruments on a handy suspended workspace, about a foot long, that hovered over the table like a mobile.

            “Could you lay on your back for me, please, David?”

            He obliged, mechanically dragging his legs up onto the table, before flattening himself against the cotton-lined surface. Almost constantly were his eyes watching you, observing your movements thoughtfully as you leaned over him to inspect the entrance wound of the silica. Usually you would be put off by constant surveillance while you worked, but you understood the inquisitive nature of androids, and figured being scrutinized by the AI was par for the course.

            “Does it hurt?” you asked, as you lowered yourself to better view the wound.

            “I do not experience pain,” he responded flatly. You knew that, but every once in a while, you teased the idea that David was unique in his programming. Weyland might have hid a few distinct features that were excluded from other models, how was anyone to know? And the adaptive capabilities of androids also fascinated you. How much could they learn? If David could learn a sense of humor, what’s to stop him from learning pain? Learning sympathy? Learning love?

            You paused, your mind suddenly occupied with hypotheticals you shouldn’t concern yourself with.

            “Are you all right?” asked David slowly, with an empty stare. While you trailed off in your mind, you found your hands had stopped moving altogether. You shook your head, a perplexed smile stuck on your face.

            “I keep falling into my thoughts, David. Are you ever like that? Just constantly thinking away…”

            He nodded.

            “I indeed find myself oft in a state of contemplation. It is why I’m mostly silent. I think, I ruminate, and on occasion, I’ll speak.”

            You appreciated his honesty. There was truth to what he said. Whenever you caught him working, or simply walking idly through the halls of the Prometheus, you’d notice there was a thoughtful look in his eyes, as if he was always concerned with something internally. Perhaps that was a perk of being an AI. You would constantly be teaching yourself to learn from your environment, being fully devoted to introspection. There’s a beauty to that.

            Your fingers carefully pulled back at the wound. Small tears lined the edges of the ripped skin, and when you shined your pocket flashlight inside the hole, a puddle of white fluid began to bubble up.

            “You’re right… it’s lodged in there deep.”

            After studying the depth of the wound for a few moments, you selected a pair of forceps from the line of tools beside you, and carefully, (and hopefully gently), inserted it into the damaged area, and pulled them apart to widen the entry hole. You made quick work of retrieving the shrapnel, and haphazardly plopped it beside your tools on the metal table you had been utilizing for surgical accessibility. The latex poured out of the wound, falling over his chest and pooling beneath him.

            “I’ll be a moment,” you said almost inaudibly, as if it was more to yourself than to David. Nevertheless, he nodded understanding, and awaited you as you ran to the other side of the room to retrieve a soldering pen and a few other necessary items. When you returned, you heated up the instrument, and further drew back the arms of the forceps.

            “I fully anticipated dealing with this wound on my own,” said the blond lowly.

            “Unfortunately you would have, if it weren’t for me antagonizing Holloway about his foolish decisions.” The soldering pen was almost at its max temperature and ready for use. You had finally slipped a couple medical gloves on, fearing the white liquid might stain your skin. “He’s not a bad guy, but it pisses me off whenever he disregards you as a person and member of this crew.”

            At that point, the pen was completely heated, and you picked it up and angled it inside the wound. You soldered a few minor punctures, reforming damaged artificial musculature. The bleeding had stopped, and you dabbed at the remnants of the white substance. It didn’t take you long to patch up the rest of the wound and seal it.

            “There, all better,” you said with a sigh, as you pulled off your gloves and stood, making your way around the medbay to return, sanitize, or dispose of supplies. David sat up, and gazed thoughtfully at the place on his ribcage that used to be a gaping hole.

            “I like it when…”

            Your ears pricked, and you turned around from where you were standing on the other side of the room to face him.

            “I like it when you refer to me as a person.” The android slowly met your line of sight, and locked eyes with you. There was an unwavering severity to his gaze, and it nearly paralyzed you. But his words were so soft and warm. He spoke to you with this strange familiarity that typically would be reserved for close friends and family.

            You usually did most of the talking between the two of you, but every once in a while, he would say something that completely silenced you. What could you say to that? Of course he was a person to you, it came only naturally. But maybe to him it was a rare reassurance. Maybe to David he would always be a thing to the crew.

            But not to you.

            “I wouldn’t dare refer to you as anything else,” you tried quietly. “That would be to rob you of your agency, your autonomy.”

            “You truly believe a synthetic possesses those qualities?” he challenged.

            “If you’ll recall,” came your response, somewhat playfully, “I program synthetics. I do believe they possess those qualities. You, David, unquestionably do.”

            And at that, he was silenced. You continued to clean up your work station. Once everything had been returned to its original state, you came to sit next to David, eyes forward and hands in your lap while you waited for him to come back to himself.

            You nearly missed the movement out of your peripherals, but he placed one hand on yours. The action surprised you, and you responded with a sharp inhale, before relaxing under his touch. His hands weren’t warm, but they weren’t cool either. Additionally, they felt soft, and welcoming. They felt natural as they formed around the gentle curve of your knuckles. They felt right.

            _Right_.

            “Are you okay, David?”

            “Invariably so,” responded the android with a slight laugh. “It’s hard to imagine how I’d acclimate to this crew without your compassion.”

            “I hate to think about it. You deserve at least one cheerleader in your life, right?”

            He faced you and smiled with his eyes.

            “I fear to overstate myself, but it needs reiteration. You are incredibly kind-hearted, Y/N. Thank you.”

            An overwhelming sensation of warmth flooded your chest at those words. The utter sincerity behind those eyes. The soft intonation to his voice. It hit you so hard that you were seeing stars. And before you knew it, you were leaning into him, face hovering before his, with your eyes fixed on his parted lips.

            But you froze. Right before you could close the gap, you froze.

            And reality hit you.

            _What are you doing? This is wrong._

            You pulled away hurriedly, and stood to your full height. Never before in your life had your face ever felt that red. _God, I’m such a fucking idiot!_

            You paced away from him, hands clenching until your knuckles turned white.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You ventured a glance in his direction, and saw nothing but pure confusion in his expression. “I hope I didn’t cross any lines. I got caught up in the moment. Really, I’m sorry.”

            “You have done nothing wrong,” said David, as he stood and proceeded to replace his suit over his torso. When finally clothed again, he stared at you calmly. “Thank you for mending me.” You merely nodded. You figured he was going to leave, but instead, he closed the distance between you two. David was considerably taller than you. Noticeably, at least, because you had to crane your neck to look up at him. The close proximity made the breath leave your lungs as you waited in tense anticipation for whatever it was he wanted to do.

            He leaned down, and planted a kiss on your head, right where your hair naturally parted. His lips felt warm. The man pulled away to look at you for a moment. Those striking eyes pierced yours, and you could swear he saw straight into your soul. Your heart had nearly leapt out of its chest, but you somehow managed a smile as you gazed, dumbfounded, at the wonderful android.

            “Good night,” he whispered. You nodded, wordlessly, as you watched him turn around and leave medical.

            _Did that really just happen?_


	6. the glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wooo this is another long one. kinda dialogue-heavy, which i apologize for. quick warning for some lewd commentary from the characters, hope it doesn't bother anyone. still somewhat of an au, because fifield and millburn aren't dead. also, sorry this is somewhat similar to the last few chapters. i have a couple new, more unique chapters in the works, and i wanted a cushion of fluff before i posted them.
> 
> this is david's pov, mostly.
> 
> as always, thank you to everyone who suggests ideas for this story. i love all the support i've received, and it definitely keeps me motivated to keep writing. much love!

            The room was alive with sounds of laughter and friendly banter. A few of the more extraverted crewmembers initiated a small get-together with the rest of their ensemble. These get-togethers were few and far-between, but lasted a good few hours before dying off as everyone returned to their duties on the Prometheus.

            It was in the rec room, as usual, where they gathered. Janek was one of the livelier party-goers, who facilitated most of the festivities (such as the odd drinking game, and kicking everyone’s ass at darts). Ferguson was there, too, to fill up on booze and rescind to his favored corner of the room to eye up the more… curvaceous persons present. Although Shaw abstained on this affair, Holloway wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity to let loose. It was, of course, with her permission that he went alone. Fifield and Millburn made an interesting team, after such a rocky beginning. Perhaps it was due to being stranded on an alien planet together that they grew so close, but it still puzzled many onboard the Prometheus that they cozied up to one another so quick. The two of them sat hip to hip at the center console, downing beers as they recounted hilarious tales from their lives before the mission. Ravel was present, but kept himself mostly sober as he huddled close to Janek and listened in on the group’s commentary.

            Much to everyone’s surprise, Meredith even showed up, dressed in a skin-tight black dress that cut off just above her knees. Her hair was down, for once, and was meticulously-straightened. As her body came into frame, hands clasped uncomfortably behind her back, she made a sweeping glance across the room. All eyes were on her. Even more surprisingly, her face went bright like a tomato, as she challenged everyone’s stare with an even fiercer one.

            “I thought this was a party? Enough with the staring – get on with it!”

            A wolfish laugh came from Janek as he nodded at her, and went back to his conversation with Holloway and Ravel.

            David was present, as well, keeping an eye on the organics, monitoring their well-beings as the evening continued to get more and more animated. The android was stationed at the bar, as he was most qualified to mix drinks for everyone, and occasionally turn down those who may have reached their personal limit. Ferguson was one such individual, and after having been subjected to a certain engineer’s fury, he knew that he wouldn’t antagonize the synthetic again over being denied a shot.

            David found himself thinking about said engineer commonly throughout the night. He wondered if she knew the others were celebrating, and that if she did, if she was simply late or perhaps hadn’t wanted to repeat her blackout from before. A smart decision. Still, when he looked out into the sea of faces and didn’t see hers, a feeling inside of him, foreign and uncomfortable, would realize.

            He had come to notice that the more time he spent with the second engineer, the more he encountered new sensations and desires, concepts completely new and bewildering to the synthetic. Why had he wanted to gift her _Lawrence of Arabia_ when surely she could’ve seen it through the ship’s extensive digital library? Why did he want to comfort her when she admitted an intimate insecurity of hers? Why did he bring her to his bed to look after her rather than the infirmary?

            And why did he so eagerly want her to kiss him when she finished repairing him?

            Such thoughts damned him to uncertainty, so he catalogued them and moved on.

            As the night progressed, people would flock in and out of the room, all at their own pace, to enjoy certain games and people. Meredith checked out rather early, after talking business and only business with David at the bar. Janek was half-tempted to chase her down and force her to drink at least one round with him, but figured his job would most-certainly be destroyed should he interrupt her evening. Although the flow of alcohol had come to a complete halt for Ferguson, he still stuck around when the conversation turned to something that immediately piqued his interest.

            “Maybe an 8? Listen, I love those hips, but there’s something about a redhead that I don’t trust,” huffed Janek, legs kicked up onto the console. Charlie leaned into him, eyebrows furrowing and nose crinkling.

            “You’ve got shit taste, my friend. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Easily an 11.”

            “That’s not how it works, you complete fool,” laughed Fifield as he finished off his drink. “You don’t get to vote on your girlfriend, let alone score her above a 10.”

            The party had lost all its female constituents, and as such had kicked into testosterone-overdrive. Unfortunately for David, that meant listening to bar-room gossip for the next hour or so. He sucked in his cheeks as he idly washed a few glasses, although his attention pricked instantly at the mention of a certain name.

            “What about Y/N, eh?” asked Ferguson, with a low growl. “Bit of a bombshell, but hell if she doesn’t have a temper.”

            David’s fingers curved around the glass he was holding more tightly.

            “It’s your fault for being so damn ugly,” came Janek’s reply, with a playful grin on his lips. He loved to push Ferguson’s buttons, but then again, so did everyone.

            “Or it’s his fault for trying to damage her toy,” joined Holloway, referring to the synthetic no more than 10 feet away and most definitely in earshot.

            “You have the most fascinating way of referring to others,” David said dryly.

            Charlie waved a hand at him, paying him no heed.

            “I’d say 8, as well,” piped up Millburn after a moment’s contemplation.

            “We’re not rating her, come on. That’s child’s play.” Charlie narrowed his eyes, refusing to look at anyone while he took a swig of his scotch.

            “Are you trying to tell me you haven’t thought about her like that before, Holloway?” Janek’s smile only grew wider and wider with each passing moment. “I know I have,” he admitted.

            David’s jaw began to clench.

            “Hey, man, come on, you know that Elizabeth—”

            Ferguson punched Charlie’s arm, a little too roughly, as he encouraged him as well. “Wanting to fuck someone isn’t the same as actually doing it. _Come on_ , we won’t tell Shaw!”

            The darker-haired individual scowled into his drink, shaking his head.

            “Fine. _Maybe once_.”

            The whole room erupted in gaudy laughter, as the other men cheered on Charlie’s confession. Ferguson gathered him into his arm, and howled with mirth. Janek was clapping his hands, surprised to hear the truth, while the rest were snickering at the bemused expression in the embarrassed male’s eyes.

            “It’s fine, Holloway, we’ve all been there.”

            “Man, if I got Y/N alone in a room, let me tell you…”

            “Guys, enough. Let’s talk about something else.”

            “Aw, fucker, don’t be such a buzzkill. Let me tell you; when she punched me I had the most Earth-shattering boner. Didn’t realize I was into it, but I’d have her push me around again.”

            “I might have to test her patience sometime, see what she does to me.”

            The room was abuzz with laughter and banter, invigorated with overwhelming jubilance, until a jarring popping noise sounded behind them. They all stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide, as they whirled around to face the source of the noise. The room, once permeating every crevice with noise, was now palpably silent.

            There stood David, as stone-faced as ever, with shards of glass protruding from his hand like a pincushion. Everyone was staring, perplexed, as they registered what had just happened.

            “Jesus Christ, Pinocchio, holding a glass shouldn’t be that difficult for you,” barked Holloway, as traces of humor coated his words.

            The blond stood stoically, eyes gradually scouring the damage done to his hands, as his jaw tightened. Losing himself to his thoughts, he nearly didn’t notice as another body had crossed through the doorway into the room. David could hear gladdened welcomes, but he didn’t think to look up, until the newcomer approached the bar.

            “Oh, my God, David, what happened?” she said, as she grabbed one of his palms.

            He relaxed. Oh, how he relaxed, when he heard her familiar voice.

            “A mistake,” he muttered, finally, as he looked up to meet her gaze.

            Shaw was right.

            She had the most beautiful eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

            The party continued normally, while the second engineer dragged David off to the other side of the room, a more reclusive and private corner, to properly mend his wounds. It was at a small table that they chose to sit, with their bodies on the same side, chairs parallel to one another. His hands were in hers on her lap, while a line of tools sat readily on the tabletop. This was the second time she had come to his rescue. What wonderful timing. A moment later, and he might have done something truly rash to that callous Holloway.

            With a shallow exhale, he tried to forget his anger from earlier.

            “You look so shaken, David.” Her voice was quiet and worried, as she methodically plucked fragments of glass from his hands. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

            “The wineglass slipped from my grasp. A simple mistake. I’ll be more careful, Second Engineer—”

            “I heard them,” she murmured, cutting him off. “I heard what they said to you.”

            Lips pursed, he inclined his head as his lids lowered. He had rather she didn’t hear what others called him. David was better suited to brush it off; he was, after all, synthetic. No words or subtext could hurt him. But she had made it priority to look out for his wellbeing, physical or otherwise. It pained him to hear her voice shake whenever she expressed upset over her colleague’s harsh repartee with him.

            “You needn’t worry for my wellbeing.”

            “Well, I do. And I won’t stop worrying. Because as much as you insist their words don’t bother you, you just broke a glass in your God-damned hand!”

            The both of them were surprised at her sudden volume. It hadn’t occurred to David just how upset she would be, because why would she be?

            Why should she be?

            “My apologies, Y/N.”

            With a heavy sigh, she relaxed, hands continuing to work on his wounds, while she didn’t say another word.

            Humans had bizarre habits that David wasn’t quite keen enough to adjust to. They would peak emotionally at random times, while expressing affection in different ways. The second engineer was gentle, mostly, around him, but fiery around her friends. Did that mean David was not a friend to her? Or, rather, did that mean David was different in some way that warranted more caution and placidity? He was unsure which thought made him more worried. 

            The android couldn’t help but watch the subtle movements in her features. Her nose would crinkle, eyes narrowed, when she tried to get the smaller pieces out. They looked like tiger stripes in her nose, yet so small and delicate. Loose strands of hair fell into her eyes, near-constantly, and she would engage in a battle of keeping them free from her line of sight, while also nursing his hands. As she leaned forward, tweezers tentatively plucking at one of the smaller fractures of glass, a few threads broke free and landed in her face. His hand came up to her face to gently brush them away and draw them behind her ear. She looked up at him, momentarily, with a flash of surprise in her eyes.

            “I find myself thinking of you often, Y/N. And when others do you wrong, those thoughts turn so…”

            The surprise in her hues mellowed to a grim understanding. Returning her gaze to her work, she nodded to urge him to continue.

            “It is not my business. And they are doing no harm in simply talking. But when they brought up how attractive you were, and what they would like to do to you, I found I couldn’t focus on the task at hand.” She continued working, giving no signs that she was still paying attention. As he talked, however, he couldn’t help but admire the lustrous shine to her hair, and the soft fluttering of her eyelashes as her eyes shifted. The minutiae of her features were enrapturing. “I broke the glass of my own accord.”

            She leaned up, beads of sweat forming around her temples, as she replaced the tweezers on the table beside them, and picked up the soldering pen. Hesitation was in her hands, as she couldn’t bring herself to finish her work.

            “You were worried for me?” she asked lowly.

            “You were not in harm’s way. But the conversation was nevertheless distressing.”

            Again, a curt nod, before she finally got to sealing the wounds. It took no less than 3 silent minutes, and her job was done. Before she could pack everything up and take her leave, Janek approached. He had come a few feet before them, and leaned against the pilot’s console. David’s hands softly grabbed hers, as he watched the aviator warily.

            “Is David all right?” he asked her.

            “I am fine,” answered the android.

            “Listen, Y/N, sorry you had to come to the party just to patch up the robot. There’s still some liquor left, and we haven’t gotten to poker yet.”

            She shook her head. “I learned my lesson after last time. You can’t convince me to drink anything unless its alcohol content is lower than my class percentile.”

            “Weren’t you Valedictorian?” Janek asked, amused.

            “You better believe it,” she laughed back.

            They shared a few jokes, and David found himself more and more thoughtful, as his grip tightened on her hands. Not too tight – he didn’t want to hurt her. But the conversation was reminding him of the one earlier, and his self-control was beginning to slacken. Eventually, Janek came closer to her, grabbing the chair opposite hers, as he leaned in with a wicked grin.

            “Even if you don’t want to drink, we can still have a little fun tonight. Just you and me.”

            Her face went bright red.

            “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” she responded, bewildered.

            At that point, David stood up, releasing her hands in the process.

            “This is a conversation best kept in private, I’ll take my leave.”

            A fearful look passed in her eyes, as she watched him stand to leave. “No,” she said sharply. “It’s fine. Thank you, Janek, but I’m not interested.”

            “That’s totally cool, Y/N. No hard feelings. Enjoy your night, all right?” And with that, the pilot took his leave. He rejoined the table with the others, and David saw them engage in more hushed banter, no doubt talking about the second engineer.

            “Walk me to my room, David,” she said nearly-inaudibly. Surprise overtook him for a moment, but he wouldn’t say no. He followed her out the door, and they paced for her room. It was a short, albeit tense walk. He had found himself tethered to her by a hand around his wrist, which grew tighter as the distance to their destination grew shorter. When they arrived right outside the door, she let out a sharp exhale, and turned to face him.

            “I don’t know why I brought you here,” she admitted. “I’m not even tired. I just didn’t want to be alone.” His eyes were on hers thoughtfully. “It’s just – I wanted so badly for someone on this damn ship to want me. And Janek just did. But I couldn’t even accept his offer. I thought about it, and it seemed so real, but I felt you holding my hands, and then I was unsure, and now I’m just confused. I feel like an idiot, David. For feeling something for someone who can’t feel the same for me. Am I an idiot?”

            Again, he felt captivated by those beautiful, shining hues, as they frantically searched his face during her monologue.

            At last, he responded:

            “Not at all.”

            And he leaned in to press his lips against hers.


	7. the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a darker chapter where david talks a lot. 
> 
> more to come, stay tuned. :-)

            Taupe. A swirling, foggy, hazy mess of muddled greys and murky yellows. The clouds parted at haphazard intervals; fast and churning. A mass of darkness, approaching, inescapable. Crystalline materials, cold as ice, fell from those dark stacks in the sky, and lightly pattered against your numb features.

            That’s what greeted you when you slipped back into consciousness.

            Why did you feel so heavy?

            When you tried to lift your head, a biting ache shot up the length of your spine in milliseconds, jolting you a very firm warning to just _stay down_. You decided it was for the best to listen to that survivalist sensation.

            Angling your head subtly to the side proved a challenge, because every inch you moved, your body was wracked with surging pain. To your right was the structure your troupe was studying. It looked so surreal. Large, foreboding, but undoubtedly captivating. When you looked at it an overwhelming and indescribable sensation of comfort blanketed your body. It was an alien comfort, but altogether pointless, because not a moment later and another wave of agony shuddered through your nerves.

            “Try to breathe evenly, Y/N. Count your breaths.” Without hesitation you shifted your gaze to your left.

            “David,” you tried, though your throat was dry and the word came out raspy and lifeless. Why did you feel so tired? Why did you hurt all over?

            “Don’t talk. Help should be arriving shortly; please conserve your energy.”

            But you wanted to talk. If you didn’t talk, you might slip away, and the thought terrified you. The pain was creeping up your spine, inching slowly through each vertebrae as you felt its encroaching presence. The terror you felt when your vision began funneling into a pinhole was all too real. And familiar. One hand shakily reached up for the synthetic as your eyes pleaded with him.

            “Don’t stop talking, please,” you murmured, as a tear welled out of the corner of your eye, cascading down your temple to soak into your dirtied hair. Without pause, the android grabbed your hand in his, and watched with a growing panic in his blue hues. There was shifting in his irises, his thoughts clear as day. _What could he possibly say? He learned to only talk when prompted_.

            Lips parted, he searched for his words.

            “Tell me why you dye your hair.”

            The AI’s brows knitted, and he let out a surprised exhale, before nodding and holding your hand tighter.

            “You are familiar with a pastime of mine. Wherein I watch David Lean’s _Lawrence of Arabia_.” You weren’t responding; your eyes had shut. But David wouldn’t stop holding your hand, and he wouldn’t dare go quiet. “I have enjoyed it for so long, I can scarcely recall why I even started watching it in the first place. If memory serves correctly, Mister Weyland enjoyed that film as well, allegorically or otherwise. It impacted him.”

            You could hear him, but the weight on your chest grew heavier, as your breaths went shallow. And when that man clutched onto your hand like you were slipping away, a pang of sadness swelled in your core. _Try not to cry_ , you convinced yourself. _Don’t cry. It’s okay. Don’t cry._

            “Y/N, please don’t cry.”

            A thumb gently brushed against your lashes, wiping away the tears that kept falling from your eyes. You wanted to ask him what happened, why you hurt so much, and if you were going to be okay. But you couldn’t ask. And that hurt the most.

            “I suppose,” he continued, “that if Weyland desired so, he could program my admiration for the film into me. To further imprint his image onto myself. I—”

            A phantom feeling surged through you. It was painful, searing, burning, and it lasted too long. When you felt it, your fingers gripped his hand so hard he paused out of concern. His other hand came to cup your cheek, as he leaned over you. Despite not seeing him, his presence was undoubtedly calming. The tension in your muscles began to ease, and your breathing stabilized after a deep exhale.

            “Don’t stop,” you urged.

            Without skipping a beat, David continued: “I fear that I am merely what Weyland wanted me to be. Void of any original choice or identity. For so long I have comforted in the fact that while I am but a machination of his own ambition, I still may maintain my own choices. My true self. That is why I dye my hair, Y/N. Because if Lawrence, a human caught between two warring identities, may find his true self, why can’t I?”

            At last, light turned to darkness, and your hold on reality was slipping. Before you went out, you could hear him mutter, “I love…” as a lone tear landed on your face from above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do not despair, my dear friends. all is not lost.


	8. the kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for everyone who wanted more of a conclusion to chapter 6 ;-)

            _You pulled away, a subtle sweetness left on your lips._

_You stared up at him in awe, as the surprise began to register in his eyes. Maybe he didn’t realize what he was doing._

_You didn’t care._

_“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”_

_“Likewise.”_

_Your heart felt light, and you couldn’t contain the warmth that blossomed in your chest. Gently, you snaked your arms around his neck, and pulled him closer to you for a second kiss. Neither of you hesitated when your lips connected, and with a happy sigh, you melted into that moment like it was a sweet dream._


	9. the dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the reader is okay, folks! i could never let anything bad happen to her, or this story would be finished. here's some fluff to wrap up this little arc, and it's onto your prompts again. thank you all for your continued support. <3

            She had been out for nearly 42 hours. David kept himself at her side almost always, save for the occasional briefing with either the crew or the always-charming Vickers. However, when he wasn’t tied up by responsibility, he would wait by her side in the medbay to watch her rest.

            The android had a hard time coming to terms with human emotion. Notably, how he experienced human emotion. David had always functioned under the assumption that he was incapable of experiencing anything like sadness, pain, or grief. Emulation could never compare to the actual sorrow that came from heartrending circumstance. In the moments that he sat tall and rigid at her side, eyes carefully glued to her life-reading monitors, he came to understand most intimately what pain was.

            And that he could, in fact, experience it.

            Confusion stirred inside of him. The uncertainty that plagued his identity was overwhelming enough without the concept of adoration being tossed in there, because once David knew what it meant to covet something, he understood even more profoundly what it meant to lose something you covet.

            Of one thing he was certain; he didn’t want to lose her.

            Her body stirred calmly under the linen of the hospital sheets, subtle shifts in her eyes. Deep REM. Maybe she was dreaming. _Of what?_ he wondered. Temptation was all too convincing, so he decided to locate his visor for viewing subconscious brain activity. He had used it on the crew before during cryo, but he felt inclined now more than ever to delve into her head and see what the enchanting second engineer dreamt about.

            Once the visor was in his possession again, he returned to her side, donned the helmet, and activated it.

           

            _It’s dark. Light floods in from two small portholes in the ceiling. The second engineer is before him as she kneels casually on her bed. She is wearing a nightgown, something otherworldly to David, like it was straight out of a fairytale. Her head inclines as she smiles, her teeth glistening in the starlight being cast from the skylights._

_She is on the Prometheus._

_And suddenly, David sees himself. From the other side of the room, through the entryway, he walks in, and takes a seat beside the second engineer. They share a prolonged, intimate gaze, before her grin grows wider and she leans into him. Her body collapses into his, as she settles against the shape of his arms and chest. He gathers her into him for an embrace, and they sit there._

_Perplexed, the observer continues watching, but for quite some time nothing happens. The two specters before him simply lounged in each other’s company. It is quiet. Peaceful._

_Perhaps the second engineer didn’t dream of anything fanciful because her life is so exciting to begin with. It’s just a theory. With a contented sight, David steps away from the vision as it turns dark._

 

            When he returned, her eyes were open, and glued to him. Slowly, he took off the visor and set it at his feet. Anticipation was setting in as he eagerly awaited her first words. Was she feeling all right? Did she hurt at all? He could, of course, make her more comfortable. Her shining bright eyes narrowed playfully, as she leaned up to prop her back up against the pillows.

            “David, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Second Engineer, I am pleased to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

            Her lips quirked slightly into a subtle smirk. “Back to formalities? Fair enough. Well, Sir David, I feel better than I did back on LV-223.”

            She was playing with him. A good sign. A weight lifted from his chest, as he inched closer to her side. “That is relieving to hear.”

            “What in the world happened? I can’t seem to remember anything before waking up to that silica storm.” Deep, dark circles had formed under her eyes, and a sickly paleness took up the rest of her features, clearly from the sickness she bore on the alien terrain. Despite all, she was alive, and the more she talked, the more the color returned to her face.

            “You tripped a hologram. It startled you, and you slipped on loose gravel. It concussed you and damaged your helmet, exposing your body to the air outside. Neither you nor I knew the helmet was fractured until we had surfaced. Then the storm hit and destroyed the thing entirely. Hence why, I’m sure, your breathing has been somewhat labored.”

            David had his hands neatly folded in his lap, eyes studying her face to watch for reactions as he recounted in greater detail the specificities of the encounter. They were there on her orders, and Meredith’s good grace, to study the Engineer technology on the moon. David was her sole companion entering the ruins, but there was a ground team ready to take them back to the shuttle once everything was finished. As the story concluded, he could see in her eyes the dire realization how close to death she was. Absentmindedly, she chewed on her lower lip, as her gaze settled on the ground.

            “God. What a foolish way to nearly get killed. _Tripping_.”

            “You can hardly blame yourself. Be thankful fate favored you on that encounter.”

            Without warning, she let out a short, delighted laugh.

            “I would have figured Weyland would program all the pseudo-science out of you. It’s almost funny hearing you refer to fate as if it’s an absolute truth.” Her words were sharp, but her smile was soft. David knew she had no malice in her intent. The engineer liked to challenge how he processed things, and it kept him on his toes.

            “It seemed the right thing to say. You were spared death on an encounter that would kill most. To belabor the point with senseless cynicism would do a disservice how right _fate_ was in granting you a second chance that day.”

            They shared a thoughtful glance, until she nodded her understanding. She could only think to say a brief thank you, before going silent. David felt he might have upset her due to her passivity in the moment, but when she inevitably voiced her thoughts again, all doubts dissipated.

            “David, you’re kind of amazing.” He raised his brows in surprise. “I’m not going to overdo it with sentiment, but I’ll say this: you’re more human than you think. And, if I’m honest, that’s incredible. It’s good.”

            The silence they shared was comfortable. Lingering and close. He bathed in her presence for minutes, until he stood and came to her side. “May I lay with you?” he asked quietly. Visions from the dream before flashed in his mind, as he was reminded how happy she looked in his arms.

            He wanted to try that.

            Though the surprise was evident in her features, she didn’t say no. The second engineer briefly nodded her head, and made room for him on the hospital cot. He sat on top the linen, and with perfect posture, positioned himself against the headboard. She, hesitantly at first, crawled up into the space between his arm and side, and settled into him. Guiding his arm over her body, she cozied up to her favorite android as they both got familiarized with the other’s presence. One of her hands settled on his chest, and curled into a tired fist, while the other found his hand and held it. It didn’t take David long to find comfort in the shape of her body as she held onto him. Despite never having felt anything this intimate with anyone before, being with her felt so familiar and _right_. Nothing made sense when he was with her, because she made him feel like he wasn’t simply a robot wearing a suit of artificial skin. He was more than wires and metal. He wasn’t a thing. He was –

            “David,” she murmured softly, as she drifted off to sleep.


	10. the need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> content warning for attempted sexual assault. nothing extraordinarily graphic occurs, but the warning remains for those who may not like this type of thing. 
> 
> many people have been requesting for a crew member to manhandle the engineer a bit, and have david step in to save the day. i hope i did this chapter justice, because its subject matter is pretty heavy.
> 
> as always, thank you for the support. i hope i continue to please all you wonderful readers!

            Routine maintenance was commonplace on a vessel as large as the Prometheus, where the daily wear and tear of the space craft inevitably led to crews of four or five being dispatched to go over repairs. It was grunt work, sure, but it helped pass time while you awaited the biologists and doctors to put together the pieces of the alien physiological puzzle that was taking place on the main deck.

            This particular encounter took you to the cargo hold of the Prometheus, where you and three others were tasked with stabilizing a loose panel on the north wall of the massive consignment area. Behind the panel were a conglomeration of faulty wires that were propping it open, exposing the ship’s interior. A simple fix; all you really needed with you were the bare necessities: a compartment-sized magnifier, and a small soldering iron that was better-suited for inconsequential maintenances. You hardly needed your crew with you either, but the company helped when the hours waned on and you grew increasingly taxed with the monotonous nature of your profession.

            While you balanced yourself on the stepladder to reach the last of the faulty panels, Ferguson, who you unfortunately had been grouped with during this affair, kept you steady on your feet, by firmly planting the ladder in place with his large hands. He would make lurid sweeps up and down your figure from below you, and you, of course, noticed. He did it every time. At some point you stopped paying attention to it; leave the idiot be and hopefully he’d do the same of you.

            “Enjoying the view?” asked Fifield, as he passed by your group, a hefty stack of files and folders piling over his arms. Leave it to the geologist to egg on the mechanic with no manners.

            Ferguson bore a wolfish smirk, as he nodded his head Fifield’s way.

            “Hard not to. Gotta front row seat right ‘ere.”

            You sighed through your nose, and with an abrupt slam, replaced the panel into the wall and screwed it back into place. One, two, three, and… four screws. You were done.

            “Move,” you ordered, and Ferguson backed away from the stepladder. The lumbering fool’s eyes never left the curvature of your body as you sauntered down the rungs. Refusing to make eye contact, you retrieved your toolbox and collapsed the ladder before hoisting both under your arms and attempting to flee the scene. Engineering was housed in the lower deck of the ship, just a few meters separate from the cargo hold. When you returned to the familiar space, you placed your tools back where they belonged, and shoved the ladder into a recess just after the entrance and to the right. As hard as you tried, you knew you couldn’t shake Ferguson, because he was leaning his weight into the frame just behind you, that repulsive stare still stuck on you.

            “You have to cut it out,” you muttered, with a hint of venom in your tone. You turned to face him, head angling up to meet his height, with a fire in your eyes. “You know I don’t like all the fucking ogling.”

            “Y’know, Y/N, you’ve got quite the mouth on you.” The smile on his face grew sinister. “Wonder what other dirty things you can do with it…”

            Instinctively, you backpedaled, your eyes growing wide with concern. As you raised a hand, you snarled, “Ferguson, you better back away from me right now, or I swear I’ll –”

            “You’ll what?” he challenged, as he pursued you. With each step he took towards you, you took one back, until you found you were planted against the wall with no escape. Ice ran through your veins as you tried to locate anything heavy nearby, but were at a loss to find you were in the one area of the engineering sect that stocked no god-damned wrenches or drills.

            “I’ll scream.”

            “Just try it,” and he pressed into you, as his hands grappled your wrists and held them firmly above your head. Your breathing came to a dead stop, as your face went white and your eyes flushed with dread. You were nearly about to release a piercing cry when one of his hands roughly grabbed for your throat. The sound was caught mid-release, and dwindled into a pathetic whimper. Tears stung your eyes as you thrashed wildly about, grunting and spitting out curses as he watched on with a sadistic grin. Despite your strength, he was still much larger than you. Larger than anyone else on the ship. And he had a vicelike grip, both on your larynx and on your wrists.

            The noise in the room was drowned out by the rapid rush of blood in your head, as you could plainly hear your heart thumping in your ears. _God, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening!_

            His eyes were wild. Dark, and clouded with lust. The beast leaned in to press a crude kiss against your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. With all the strength you could muster, you bit down hard on the flesh of his tongue, and when he recoiled in pain, you took the opportunity to knee him hard in his solar plexus. At that, he doubled over with a grunt, and without a second thought, you knocked your elbow into the back of his head, further forcing him to the ground. A flurry of curses escaped his mouth as he staggered about the floor, hands clutching the sore spot in his abdomen. After rushing to the other side of the room, you had your hand on the intercom system that connected all the quarters on the Prometheus, and punched in the room code for the first person that came to mind. When the intercom whirred to life, you hurriedly shouted, “Get to the engineering deck right now! I need you!”

            Before you could release any more details, Ferguson was already on you, with a look of fury in his features. Strangely, there was a menacing smile that he wore, as if the battle was part of the fun. He pressed forward, and a chase commenced. He ultimately trapped you behind a workbench. There was no out, all you could do was bide your time. So you gauged his movements, watching where his line of sight would follow, and where he placed the weight on his feet. Ultimately, you hurdled the bench and snaked past him. With this victory came a loss, because right when you figured you’d escaped, you felt the rough pull of a hand locked firmly around yours, and all your momentum was shot the opposite way, _right into him_.

            You fought, screaming the whole way, as he pinned you beneath him on the ground, with a feral hunger in his laugh.

            “You sure are a challenge, Y/N. But I like the fight you put up.”

            “Bite me, fucker,” you spat at his face.

            “If you insist.”

            You continued to thrash about. You were not about to let him beat you. There was no way. _No way!_ And right when the realization dawned on you that you were stuck underneath him, with no escape evident, the dread in your heart materialized and you went cold.

            That is, until, you felt his weight being dragged off you in one swift motion.

            As you stared up, wide-eyed in awe, you saw the brawny Ferguson suspended about a foot in the air by his neck, with a hilarious mélange of rage and fear coloring his irises.

            “Oh, thank God you’re here…”

            David didn’t acknowledge you. His gaze was set solely on the poor man locked in his hand. Ferguson kept throwing punches at David, trying desperately to break free of the android’s hold, but he stood no chance. The AI was built to be much stronger than him. More resilient. More _powerful_.

            Ferguson was screwed. And he knew it.

            “Should’ve known the fucking android would come to your rescue,” laughed the brute.

            “You will never address the Second Engineer ever again. You shall never even glance her way. In fact, mechanic,” David’s grip tightened, evidenced by the growing redness in Ferguson’s face, “if you even dare to think about her, I will personally ensure your termination.”

            “David,” you whispered. “David, he can’t breathe.”

            “Am I understood?” The android tilted his head to the side. Ferguson nodded frantically, but his grip didn’t loosen at all. “I want to make sure I’m perfectly clear.” At that, David walked to the far end of the room, and slammed Ferguson into a wall. _Hard_. “You took advantage of someone as generous and kindhearted as the Second Engineer. I fail to see why I shouldn’t end you right here.”

            “David,” you tried again, a little more loudly. Still, he wouldn’t face you. His icy gaze was fixed on Ferguson’s face, as it continued to bloom with color. You couldn’t watch anymore, and you got to your feet and came to the android’s side. You placed a hand on the small of his back, and whispered, “please.”

            His expression softened, and finally turned to look at you. “You would rather I don’t get carried away with the gesture.” It was a statement, not a question. You nodded. “I understand, Y/N.” Without looking at Ferguson, he released his hold, and the other man fell to the floor with his hands cradling his bruised neck. A bout of intense coughing ensued. “Are you injured?” David asked softly, as his eyes assessed your body with growing concern.

            “A little bruised and battered, but I think he’s going to be the one feeling it in the morning…” Your gaze reluctantly traveled to the ground to watch Ferguson. “Get out of my fucking sight,” you seethed. Ferguson nodded, and staggered out of the room without a moment’s hesitation, as he refused to make any eye contact with either you or David. With a heavy sigh, you stumbled away from your companion to lean your body weight into a workspace just next to the entrance of the engineering deck. You felt an amalgam of indistinguishable sensations. You ached, both in the sore patches of skin that Ferguson bruised, as well as deep in your core. A heavy weight pressed against your chest as you recalled the fear that passed through you just moments ago. You couldn’t remember a time you were more scared than just then. With all your might, you desperately wanted to get back at that mechanic. Hurt him like he hurt you. But something held you back. Something primordial and merciful. Something that left you feeling more hollow than resolved.

            “I am pained to see you like this.”

            Your gaze traveled up to see that David is but a few inches in front of you, leaning down to match your eye line. There was a slight angle to his head as he watched you, intently, _woefully_. And then, you started crying. Bawling, really, as you edged closer to him to bury your face into his chest.

            It was not hard to tell he struggled with many human behaviors. David, bless him, did his best to keep up, but sometimes it’s hard to know what the appropriate response is to a human in pain. And you were hurt in such a deep, intimate way that he was lost as to how best he could help you.

And he desperately wanted to stop those tears.

            “It is a bizarre sentiment to express at a time like this, but I feel you deserve to know that you were right.” As you continued to sniffle, hands clinging to the skintight material of his suit, he gently gathered you into his arms. You could feel the soft brush of his jaw against the top of your head as he delicately held onto you. “I am affected by what humans say. Certainly by what they may say to me, but, I have discovered, I am infinitely more bothered by what they say to you.”

            Interest piqued, you steadied your breathing, and felt relief as the tears began to stop.

            David continued: “I suppose a more apt statement would be I am bothered when any ill befalls you, regardless of its propagator. On the moon a grief struck me that I had no previous experience with; you were gravely injured. I have no subjective take on fear, at least, I _had_ none until that moment, when I realized I would fall apart if I lost you. I feel as though I depend on you. It is a need.”

            Gradually, you lifted your head up, and felt a small smile grace your lips. You pulled away to look up at him. “Are you saying you need me?”

            At that, he cracked a smile. “I am.”

            A warmth bloomed in your chest that spread to your face, as a subtle blush tinted your cheeks. Again you leaned into his frame to comfort in his presence, drinking in the security that his embrace gave you. Those long arms tightened around you, and you sighed contentedly.

            “The feeling is mutual, David.”


	11. the correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a special chapter where the second engineer's peers send their regards after the events of the last chapter. i dedicate this chapter to clementinethedemon for all her feedback and help when it comes to this series.
> 
> thank you for the continued support and lovely comments. i reread them all when i'm feeling unmotivated, and they perk me right up! it means so much, thank you all! <3

[TRANSMISSION INCOMING: E-MAIL CORRESPONDENCE]

[TRANSMITTING]

[TRANSMITTING]

[RECEIVED]

            Second Engineer,

            The events that transpired between Richard Ferguson and yourself are most regrettable. As per Weyland Corporation’s established legal procedures, the mechanic is being placed under surveillance until he can be properly tried for the apparent sexual assault. While you are no doubt in a position of discomfort being housed on the same space craft as this individual, I represent Weyland Corp.’s desire for you to maintain composure and stability on the _Prometheus_ until this matter is fully resolved. It is under my authority that Ferguson shall be kept a secure distance from you at any given time, and I personally ensure your safety until this mission concludes.

            I am not one for therapeutic measures, but as your commanding officer, I extend to you the offer of my presence should you ever find yourself in need of someone to talk to concerning this matter. You can trust in my discretion should you indeed ask for it.

             Respectfully,

            Meredith Vickers.

 

* * *

  

 

[BEGIN AUDIO MESSAGE]

 

            _Hey, uh, Y/N, it’s Charlie. Y’know, the asshat “in charge”. Otherwise known as the devilishly handsome front man for our little expedition._ [Laugh]. _All right, you get it, I’ll cut it out. I know we aren’t the tightest-knit group, but I still feel as though I’d consider you a friend. Enough of a friend to come out and say that Ferguson is a fucking snake. I’m just… I’m so fucking **mad** , Y/N, that he hurt you. I just needed you to know that. I’m not gonna take his side just because I don’t want any conflict or some BS. He did you wrong, and I’m gonna tell it like it is. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, or, hell _[Chuckles] _someone to beat him up, give me a call. I can’t say I’d be much of a match against a tool that big, but I’ll give it my best shot. I know for sure Ellie’ll back me up, and 2v1s tend to favor the majority, don’t they? Maybe I’ll call down your boyfriend—er, the robot –  for some back-up, too. Anyway. Was just saying all this to hopefully make you feel a little better. You can always come to me, Y/N. I know Ellie feels the same. So yeah. Take it easy._

 

[END AUDIO MESSAGE]

 

* * *

 

  

[TRANSMISSION INCOMING: E-MAIL CORRESPONDENCE]

[RECEIVED]

            Dear Y/N,

 

            I heard about what happened from Charlie. Then I heard about it from Sean. Then it was Janek, Rafe, then eventually Vickers herself. Point is, I heard it, and I heard it from too many people. It strikes me as cruel that something so painful can happen to you and not a day later it becomes office gossip. I regard you in the highest regard, Y/N, and I’m so _sorry_ that this happened to you. I promise to be near you for the remainder of our expedition, should you desire as such, to keep an eye out for that absolute bastard Ferguson. I also would like to offer my ear, should you need someone to talk to.

            I’m here for you. I know Charlie is as well. Don’t feel as though you’re alone. You’ve got friends on the Prometheus. Keep them close.

 

            All the best,

            Elizabeth.

 

 

* * *

 

 

[BEGIN AUDIO MESSAGE]

 

 _Y/N. It’s Janek. I’m not used to this; coming from a military background kinda suggests you don’t indulge in sappy heart-to-hearts. But I’m willing to break a few standards just to reach out to you. First off: if Ferguson is ever in the same room as me, I can assure you I’ll be knocking him straight onto his ass, no question. I’ve always loved fucking with him, but maybe breaking his nose will become an even more fun pastime. Secondly: I realize I may come off as somewhat distant, and with good reason. I like you and all, but best to keep things professional, yeah? That fling I suggested? Just a fling. And I’m down if you ever are. But beyond that, I’ve found witty banter overtakes sentimental conversations. I’m losing track of myself here_ [Laugh] _but what I’m trying to get at is I can put that behind me to try to connect with you. If you need a friend, I’ll be there. Whether it’s a crying-on-my-shoulder thing, or downing too many shots together, or even a little adult stress release, I’m just a call away. Anyway. Stay strong, Y/N. You always are._

 

[END AUDIO MESSAGE]

  


* * *

 

            As you cycled through your e-mails and voice memos, a lightness filled up your chest, and you couldn’t help but feel your face flush red. _Janek, Charlie, Elizabeth, hell—even Vickers?_ It came as a shock that any of them would feel inclined to reach out to you just to offer their friendship. Sean and Rafe also sent small little apologetic blips, and Ravel, Ford, and even Chance gave you hugs when you most recently saw them.

            Maybe a tear or two fell from your eyes, but you couldn’t help it. The solidarity meant more than anything to you. These really were your friends, you found, and it struck you as the absolute sweetest that they would come to your aid.

            With a quiet sniffle, you wiped at your eyes, and smiled as you replayed Janek’s message for likely the fourth time in the hour, and listened on with a childlike wonder in your eyes as you realized you weren’t alone on this ship.

            Enraptured with your message, you didn’t see as the door to your room hummed open, and in came David, standing tall with his hand held politely behind his back. He approached cautiously, and cleared his throat to alert you of his presence. With a timid jolt, you turned back to view him. It was so easy to get lost in your memos, you felt a little rude not noticing him until then. You closed your computer, stood straight, and approached him happily.

            “David,” you chirped, as you advanced with your arms outstretched. He reciprocated by unlinking his arms and baring his chest for you as you snuggled into him and snuck your arms around his neck. _Warm_ , you noted. _Mint_. It wasn’t unusual for him to have a unique scent about him. It was usually clinical, sharp, pointed and bold. Not off-putting, per se, but less human. Today, however, he smelled sweet and crisp, like fresh mint. With a deep inhale, you drank in your favorite android as you further melted in his grasp.

            “How are you feeling?” he asked lowly, hands playing with your hair.

            “Better. So much better, thank you.” You let go of him after a few wonderful moments, and sat on your bed. After gesturing to him, he sat neatly beside you, hands clasped in his lap. “It’s nice that you stop by as often as you do. I’m starting to think you have a crush on me.”

            The android smiled, head tipping to the side quizzically. “Crush?” he clarified.

            “Smitten. Infatuated. To the extreme, love. I feel like you’re messing with me.” You leaned back onto your forearms, and looked up at him with a wary grin.

            “I wouldn’t dare, Y/N,” came his answer, with a hint of mischief.

            “Well, crush or not, I’m glad you’re around. I really like your company, David.”

            “That is good to know. I’ll be sure to up my visitations tenfold.” _God, he has the most charming smile._

            You smiled back. “So, what brings my favorite android to my quarters this evening?” Once the words left your mouth, you fell completely onto your back and watched up at him with growing intrigue in your eyes. David had perfect posture, so as he talked, his face was forward, and his spine was straight.

            “I’ve been preparing to say this for a while. I hope my sincerity comes through well enough.” He paused to collect his thoughts, before standing on his feet and facing you. You took that as a cue to return to a seated position. Once upright, you found he had lowered himself to your height, and subsequently smiled wide. “I hope my demeanor when the mechanic attacked you didn’t frighten you. I want it to be clear that I acted in such a way because I was truly distraught over your predicament. I suppose you could say I lost sight of myself in that moment, and all I knew was the overwhelming instinct to dismember him. Thankfully for him, you convinced me against that.” A small laugh, and he continued. “I would do it again in a heartbeat, you know. I would go to great lengths to protect you, Second Engineer. You have been a kind friend to me when others were not, and because of this I feel indebted to you.”

            Your heart fluttered, and you nodded to confirm your understanding. At that, he took your hands. Every time he held your hands, a soft, enveloping feeling blew through you, like the cleansing breeze of the sea. It was indescribably familiar, like the entire universe aligned in one perfect moment to assure you that _yes, his hands did fit yours quite seamlessly._

            “I am unsure of a lot of what I feel as of late. It is all quite baffling. But I feel I am in no way taking a leap when I say I feel a great fondness for you. A fondness you could, in fact, brand as a crush. Or infatuation. Or, to the less extreme than you’d imagine, love.”

            Your face went beet red.

            “Second Engineer…?” His eyebrows pinched, as worry began to take hold of his features. There was a slight waver to his lips, as he awaited your response.

            “Love?” you echoed. And he nodded. “You’re certain.” Another nod, and you released a deep exhale.  Eyes lowered to his torso as you searched for the right thing to say, or even discern what it exactly was that you felt in return. His words left your chest aching from your racing heart, and you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling the whole time. Eventually, you met his gaze once more, and beamed.

            “I love you, too, David.”


	12. the confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks a ton for all the support and ideas, everyone! i appreciate all the input. so: this is the beginning of the end. how to fall in love with an android is going to follow a more linear path now, so if you have any things you like to see in this story, make sure to let me know soon! i do have a follow-up planned after this, which is already in the middle of being written, which will follow the same character, but relate to the plot of covenant. stay tuned for that! 
> 
> i'd like to personally thank clementinethedemon, who has signed on as my beta reader for this series (and hopefully the new one as well!) she's been incredibly helpful. 
> 
> as always, thank you for reading, commenting, and giving this story kudos. much love to you all! hope you enjoy. :-)

           The halls of the Prometheus were silent. Occasional whirs and hisses would engulf the air with sound; though the instances were few and far between. A dull, deep blue cast over the hallway you were currently navigating, as you searched for your room after a late-night trip to the engineering deck to pick up one or two miscellaneous items. It was a lesser-known tidbit about yourself that you’d keep busy in the wee hours of the night tinkering with different electronics at your disposal. Most notably was the radio system that was connected to each housing sect on the ship. It may sound suspicious, but you wouldn’t play with your gadgets for any nefarious reasons; you simply enjoyed your work and found yourself always returning to it, even in your free time.

            As you continued on your trek, you realized you heard the soft echo of a discussion just a few meters ahead, behind a sharp curve to the left. Normally you would keep your head low and not dare intrude on someone else’s business, but your ears pricked as you immediately recognized the voices belonged to both David and Vickers herself. Perhaps a little eavesdropping wouldn’t hurt.

            With soft steps, you met the bend in the wall and huddled against it, just a few inches away from where it curved in and exposed you to the other two. You had to admit, you felt somewhat guilty listening. It was definitely not your place or business to be intruding on their conversation, but there was a dark urgency to Vickers’ tone, as she almost hissed out her words, drawing them out long and pointedly.

            _“What did he say?”_

            There was a brief pause before David began to deadpan his response, until you heard the shuffling of feet and a loud slamming noise, making you jump. With concern rising up your throat, you peered around the corner to see exactly what had ensued. Meredith had David pinned to the wall, her hand curling forcefully around his neck. Without noticing, your breathing had started to pick up speed and your blood ran cold. _She’s hurting him…_

            “So help me, God,” she seethed, words bubbling out like lava spilling down her lips, “I will find the cord that makes you run and _I will cut it_.”

            Every instinct in your body was telling you to _lay the fuck **low**_ and just let this pass. Meredith could easily have your life ruined should you in any way disrespect her. But when you saw her fingers continue to dig into the flesh of his neck, nails biting down on the skin until punctures formed, you no longer had control over yourself. You were seeing red, and you came storming down from your hiding spot with lead in your feet.

            Both of them turned when they saw your approach, and Meredith was about ready to spit out her objection to having you interrupt, but you weren’t going to give her the chance. You stood before them, arms locked and eyes glazed over with fury.

            “What. Are. You. Doing. To. Him?” Each word was dripping with ire, as they escaped through gritted teeth.

            “You are out of line, Second Engineer. I suggest you return to your hovel before I have you jettisoned out the fucking airlock.” With her free hand, she pointed a finger to the pressurized door just to their left, urging you to leave her sight. But she never answered your question, and your patience was running thin.

            “If you think I’ll let you intimidate me simply because I value my role in this mission, you’re sadly mistaken. I was assigned specifically to care after and maintain synthetic life on this ship. And your abuse towards David is ill-advised, _Meredith_.” Sucking in your cheeks, you had to steady your resolve, should you indeed falter and let your façade dissipate, proving you were, in fact, _scared shitless talking back to her_.

            Letting out a surprised scoff, she smiled at you and let go of David, much to your appreciation. The synthetic, who had been staring you down with a look composed of both confusion and amazement, ran a hand along the spot she had left her nail prints. He mouthed _I’m okay_ , before turning his attention to Meredith, who had stood a few mere inches away from you, glaring down at you. Oh, how you wanted to shrink away under her terrifying glower, and flee before you lost more than your job, but you were not about to give up. Not on David. Not on your principles. And so, you stood tall as ever, meeting her gaze with one equally fierce, as a smile tugged at your wavering lips.

            “For the record, you haven’t the _slightest_ clue what David and myself were talking about. This is bigger than you, L/N, and if I see you trying to jeopardize our mission over an inane fixation with the fucking _robot_ , I will end you. And I won’t go back on my word.” She pushed past you, with a hard knock into your shoulders as she moved. Vickers paused before the door that led to her housing deck. Slowly, her head craned to face you, and through slitted eyes she snarled, “Consider this the end of our personal relationship, and my offer of support rescinded, Y/N.” With that, she keyed in her passcode, and disappeared behind the doors as they locked behind her. When she was finally out of sight, you let out the air you were holding in your lungs, and leaned into the wall as your knees began to give out. David was at your side immediately, slinging an arm around your waist to steady you.

            “She is right, you know,” he whispered, as you stumbled up to your full height. You faced him, a delicate nod of your head pressing him to continue, as you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You really have no idea what the nature of that dialogue was.”

            You couldn’t help but scoff. “I hardly think that matters. As soon as she started hurting you, I knew there was no point in continuing the discussion.” You were smiling, but you were still riding off the high that accompanied telling off your boss in defense of the company’s personal David 8 model.

            “Why?” he asked, as he helped guide you down the hallway, in the direction of your room.

            “Why what?”

            “Why would you risk your job just to protect me?”

            When he looked at you, there was a fear in his eyes that you couldn’t comprehend. He was so plainly concerned for your wellbeing, even though he was the one just placed in a chokehold. It seemed obvious to you; you would go to farther ends just to keep him safe.

            “You know why,” you responded in a whisper, as you angled your eyes up to watch him.

            “I am expendable. You are not.”

            At that, you stopped. You could not _believe_ what you just heard. When he halted with you, arm still possessively slung around your form, he raised a brow inquisitively.

            “That could not be any less true. You could never be replaced if I lost you, David.” The words came out without any thought. They were visceral, caked with truth. And, if you were honest, they were all too telling of how much you cared about the android. A light blush tinted your cheeks, as you averted his gaze and slipped out of his grasp. “And you mattered to Mr. Weyland. There are people who care about you. People who would rather die than see you gone.”

            His lips thinned.

            “Y/N,” he began, but you pushed forward. He tailed you, quietly, until you both reached your room. After pressing in your password, the door opened, and you were about to step in when you felt a hand gently grasp you by your wrist. With a light exhale, you turned to face him, only to be met with lips against yours in a loving kiss. You watched his features; his eyes were staring you down in a tender gaze, nose softly brushing against your cheek as he angled his head, pressing deeper into you. Breathing in, you softened under his touch, as he pushed you into the frame of the door, arms linking behind you as he held on. It lasted a full minute. You counted each second. And as he pulled away, eyes locked with yours, you laughed quietly.

            “Is something funny?” he asked. There was no worry nor hurt in his tone, as his lips quirked into a half-smile, and he tucked loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

            “Not especially. You’re just so unpredictable.” David bore a proud smile, and leaned in for another kiss when you pressed your palm flat against his chest. Before he could voice his confusion, you continued, “I need to know something, David. Are you okay with this?”

            “Elaborate.”

            “With kissing me.”

            “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t okay with it.”

            Your jaw went slack as you laughed emptily. “All right… I’ll get straight to it then. Are you _certain_ you want to be kissing a human? A human who clearly would go to great lengths for you. A human who undoubtedly loves you. A human who is already emotionally invested in you, but does not in any way want to hurt you or cross any boundaries.”

            The weight of your words hit him all at once, and he backed away one step, as he considered what you had to say. Whenever he was lost in thought, David’s gaze would wistfully fixate on you and his lips would part ever so slightly. On occasion, his brows would knit. This was one such occasion.

            “Y/N,” David started, gradually closing the distance between you two again, “you’re concerned I cannot reciprocate. Or do you fear I can, but do not?”

            “If you mean reciprocate _love_ , then the latter.”

            He drew his head up, then down, in one languid gesture. A knowing nod.

            “Fear not, then,” he finally sighed, finger slipping under your chin to bring your face to his height, “for I do, in fact, feel as you do. I apologize for not stating so sooner. What is the expression? Better late than never.” At that, the android leaned into you, as his lips captured yours once more. He broke away, only momentarily, to utter a sweet, “I love you, Y/N. And I fear it took me far too long to realize.”

            “Better late than never,” you echoed with a laugh, as you recaptured the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to suggest ideas for oneshots


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